Gareth ground his teeth, and he opened his mouth…when his gaze shifted to the pier and he seemed to change his mind. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get it over with, smile, and then never talk about it again.”
“Is that what your girlfriend says to you when you’re in bed together?”
Gareth whipped his head around, and Hazel suppressed a satisfied smile. There it was — that heat in his eyes that drove away any chill and made her skin prickle with familiarity.
“Stop provoking me, Hazel.”
“But my life coach said I should focus on my strengths, so…”
He leaned toward her slowly. “I mean it, Hazel,” he whispered warningly. “Not today.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t reply, just straightened up and stared stubbornly ahead. She eyed him suspiciously while Lucy invited the other couples to join Maddie and Matt on the dance floor.
“Can we win the game now?” Gareth asked, barely audibly.
“Oh yes. We will.” Hazel hated losing. She snatched the champagne glass from his hand, downed the liquid, and set it in the sand. Gareth reached for her hand…and warmth flooded her stomach.
The champagne. It had to be the champagne.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have to touch me,” Hazel said tensely, trying to pull her hand away…
“And don’t forget, guys!” Lucy shouted. “This is a couple’s dance challenge. I want to see beautiful waltz choreography, body contact, and lots of soft, cuddly, sweet couples!”
Shit.
“God, Cian’s right,” Gareth muttered, his grip on her fingers tightening, as if he wanted to make it clear that nothing about their dance would be gentle, cuddly, or sweet. “Damn two-class hierarchy.”
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re supposed to dance.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” She took a deep breath and intertwined her fingers with his, making certain their palms didn’t touchas she placed her other hand on his bicep, and… “Wow. You’re rather tense. Dancing is supposed to be a relaxed affair, you know?”
“I have the wrong partner for that,” he replied tersely, pushing his leg forward, forcing hers back, and placing his hand on her back, firmly pulling her toward him, and repeating the process…
Oh my God. He really was waltzing — and leading.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” she exclaimed. She'd thought she knew pretty much everything there was to know about him.
“Men born with a silver spoon in their mouths enjoy dance classes as part of their rich bastard education. The right to take whatever they want is just one subject among many.”
He could see her suppress a smile, but she didn’t let it win. “You don’t seriously have to waltz with me, we…”
“Hazel?” he whispered urgently, leaning closer so his breath fanned over her ear. “I do things right or not at all. Remember?”
Her mouth went dry, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She didn’t want to, but…yes, she did.
Fine, if he wanted to waltz, he should waltz, even if it was hard for her to let him lead. Nevertheless, his leg, which bumped hers every time she had to take a step back, was so determined, his movements ridiculously elegant and aristocratic…if she resisted, she’d end up lying in the sand.
The music abruptly stopped, and the dancing couples immediately came to a halt. Anyone who moved now would lose the freeze dance challenge.
She was glad she wasn’t looking at Gareth at that moment. Prolonged eye contact would have been a bad idea. It was enough that she could feel his hand on the bare skin of her back, his rough fingertips fanning out across it. His thumb rested on hers, as if he needed to prove who had the upper hand.
She remembered: The last time they’d been this close, they’d been naked. The last time Gareth’s hand had been on her bare back, he’d used it to pull her down harder onto his cock while he…
The music continued, and Hazel flinched.
